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HP/LOTM: Visionary - 403
🕑 Added 2025-11-21 12:12:09 +0000 UTCChapter 403: Reunion, Hiding, A Meeting in Avalon
"Cool, mate," Ron said, reaching out to tap the barrier. It flung him backwards at once.
"Sorry, I still… don’t really know what this is," Harry said, waving his hand. The shield swayed in time with the movement.
A wave of exhaustion crashed over him. His strength and magic felt completely spent. The barrier vanished and the gold faded from his eyes.
"That’s the second Killing Curse you’ve bounced," Hermione said in awe, hurrying over to haul the two of them up.
"Kill the lights, lock the door," Harry said once he was steady, taking charge of the scene.
Ron pulled out the Deluminator and clicked the lights away. Hermione flicked her wand at the shutters, sealing the café.
Only then did they turn to the two Death Eaters on the floor.
"This one’s Rowle. He was at the Astronomy Tower. Still has the burn marks from when I hit him," Harry said, nudging the lifeless body taken by his own Killing Curse.
"Antonin Dolohov. I’ve seen him on wanted posters," Ron said, stopping by the other Death Eater. His face twisted with loathing, and his hand crept toward his wand.
"What should we do with you, then? If it were us on the floor, you’d kill us without a second thought," Ron muttered.
"Ron!" Hermione snapped, afraid anger would push him into doing something he would regret.
"Tch. I know," Ron said, squeezing his eyes shut so he would not have to look.
"Erase their memories and get out. One’s dead already. This place isn’t safe," Harry said.
"Right," Hermione nodded. She lifted her wand and pointed it at Dolohov. A soft light emerged from the tip as the spell swept his memories clean.
Thump, thump.
Someone banged on the shutters.
All three drew their wands at once, aiming at the rolling door as it began to rise. Red glows tipped their wands and lit the dim café like the eyes of beasts about to strike.
A crack of light cut into the dark. A man in a black trench coat and a newsboy cap stepped through. He had a cigarette burned almost to the filter between his lips.
He took a long drag, blew out the last of the smoke and flicked it to the floor.
"Been a while, Harry Potter," he said.
"Who are you?" Harry did not lower his wand. The man was not attacking like a Death Eater, but that only made his allegiance harder to judge.
"Three years ago. Roadside. Knight Bus," the man prompted, raising his black umbrella slightly.
"You…" Harry’s thoughts flew back three years to himself sitting on the kerb, a man with a black umbrella standing there, shielding him from the rain.
"Tommy Shelby," Harry said, recalling the name, even though the card he had been given was long gone.
"Come on. We’ll talk on the way. You lot need somewhere to hide, don’t you?" Tommy said.
He pushed open the back door to the kitchen. The waiter had already bolted out the rear exit.
Tommy jerked his head, signalling them to follow. Ron and Hermione both looked to Harry, waiting for his decision.
"Let’s go," Harry said. There was no time to dither. A large-scale Death Eater search would be starting soon. They needed a bolt-hole.
The Burrow was gone. Grimmauld Place was no longer safe after Snape’s betrayal. Hogwarts was under Death Eater control. There was nowhere familiar to run.
The three followed Tommy, weaving through pitch-black alleys.
Overhead, a huge Dark Mark glowed in the sky. Black smoke poured from the skull’s mouth, fanning out to hunt its mistress’s nemesis.
Just as the smoke lunged for the trio, Tommy swept his umbrella. A spell yanked all three of them through a small doorway. The black smoke dissipated at once.
When Harry opened his eyes again, they were in a dingy bar filled with all sorts of gangsters.
The room fell silent at the sight of them, as if three white rabbits had blundered into a den of wolves. Every thug in the place stared.
"Sit," Tommy said, hanging up his coat and stepping behind the bar. He poured drinks for them.
"Sir…" Harry began, but Tommy lifted a hand to stop him.
He finished pouring, lit a cigarette, and took a contented drag.
"I know what you want to ask. I’m with the Alliance of the Converted. We’re under contract to the Prewett family," he said.
His smile flashed bright through the smoke. It was not the smell of ordinary tobacco, but cordite.
"Aiden? You’re employed by him? Or Arthursi, maybe," Harry said, unsure. Putting together what he’d learned about Prewett and what he’d seen of Tommy, he still had to ask, "Are you planning to start a war?"
"Heh," Tommy snorted, and the Converted around them chuckled with him.
"Heh heh heh… hahahaha."
The laughter swelled. Beneath the surface humour, undisguised malice stared the three teenagers in the face.
"Aiden will never let you start a war," Ron said, mustering his courage to stand up against the room’s hostility.
"He is no longer in this damned world. We are free now. Why do you wizards always get to stand on high while we Converted scuttle like rats in the gutter? We want to stand on the stage too, to show our ambitions to the world. For that, we need a war. One that sets the whole world on fire," Tommy said, rising and spreading his arms.
Behind him, it was as if scenes of blood and flame flickered: wizards prostrate at his feet.
Crack.
A rolled-up newspaper smacked him on the back of the head. "Stop scaring the kids."
Arthursi stepped out of his shadow. The three of them looked at her as if she were a lifeline.
"The Weasleys are fine. They’re under surveillance, so they cannot contact you," she said. The words steadied the turmoil in Ron’s chest.
She hooked a finger, drawing a black-covered book from her bag.
"I’ve got one of those too," Harry said, startled, pulling out his own copy from Hagrid’s pouch.
"Use mine first. I’m taking you to see someone," Arthursi said, opening the book.
An alchemical array unfolded across the pages. Grey mist surged from the book and wrapped around them.
Harry threw his arms over his face as the world vanished. Weightlessness yanked at his stomach, and then he slammed into a hard floor. Ron and Hermione dropped a second later, landing squarely on top of him.
"Ow," Harry hissed through his teeth.
"You know, the first time we met, you were sitting on the floor just like that," a pleasant young voice said.
